


Faded Memories

by cheerleadersammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheerleadersammy/pseuds/cheerleadersammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little brothers always like their older brothers toys more than their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this started when I sent Deanna my headcanon about dean having a toy car that he carries around everywhere, and somehow it expanded, and then I decided to write it.

For Dean’s 6th birthday, John gives him a toy car. It’s a 1967 Chevy Impala just like the one he drives. It quickly becomes Dean’s most valuable possession and he takes it everywhere. He runs around with it, sometime making it fly, sometimes making it fall of a “cliff” to its doom.   
Sometimes he lets Sammy play with it, but under close watch. Sammy like running it up and down dean, everywhere, and it almost always ends up in his mouth when Sammy gets bored.   
Dean loves that car to death. As he gets older, so does the car. The paint starts to flake, and one of the tires goes missing, but Dean can’t see it as anything but perfect.   
~  
He’s at recess one day, his first day at a new school. Dean doesn’t like interacting with the other kids much, so he goes off by himself and runs the car through the grass. Dean doesn’t notice a group of the other kids approaching until they tap him on the shoulder.  
“Oh look, the new kid brought his own toy!” the biggest kid shouts.  
“How ‘bout you share with the rest of us?” Another one says.  
“No, I want to play by myself,” Dean says, standing up to go find another place to play. The bigger kid shoves him back down.  
“Well, we don’t wanna play with your beat up, crappy little kid toy anyway,” He spits at him. He rips the toy car out of his hand and throws it.  
“If you love it so much, go fetch it!” Someone shouts and the others break into laughter as they walk away. Dean sits there for a few minutes, trying not to cry, and then goes off the direction the toy was thrown.  
He stays out past the bell, looking for that toy car. He doesn’t realize how long it’s been, until Sammy comes over, holding the toy car in his hand.   
“I found it,” Sammy says, handing it over to him.  
Dean smiles, and pulls Sammy into a hug, totally relieved. He stands up, brushes the grass off his clothes and head back inside. He doesn’t care about the teacher and principal yelling at him, it’s worth it to him.  
~  
Eventually, he grew out of it, as kids tend to do. The black paint was almost completely gone, and the remaining wheels no longer moved. Dean looks at the car, and hands it over to Sam, who is now 10. Sam looks at it likes it the most precious thing in the world, and won’t take it anywhere, too afraid of losing it like Dean almost did.   
~  
The first time Dean goes out driving, Sam’s in the back seat, holding the car in his hands. He couldn’t care less that he has well outgrown the age of toy cars, he loves it. Dean’s calm and collected, and John’s being incredibly patient with him, but the worry is written all over his face.   
Dean hits the gas a little too hard, and Sam’s grip on the toy car falters. The car goes flying under the front seat, and when he unbuckles his seatbelt to try and get it, John yells at him.   
Once Dean has the car parked, Sam immediately goes on his hands and knees to try and find it. It’s no use, the metal under the seat obscuring any possible view of the car. Sam cries himself to sleep that night, missing the comfort of the faded toy car.  
~  
A few weeks go by, and Sam hardly thinks about the car anymore, too wrapped up in the thought of girls and dating. He sometimes thinks about it, late at night when he can hear Dean’s breathing, until it lulls him to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there’s a toy story reference in there, okay. I wrote this shit at work. I got bored. And those were fan-fucking-tastic movies.

Sam stumbles across it accidently. He was looking for the pen that rolled under the seat, blindly sticking his hand around when he wraps it around the familiar piece of metal. He stares at it, letting all the memories flood back, and smiles. The smile quickly falls when he notes the missing wheel, the rust, and the lack of black paint anywhere.   
Sam calls Bobby, hoping he knows someone who can fix it. After what was a phone call with numerous eye rolls from both sides, Bobby gives him the name of a hunter not too far out. He used to own a toy repair shop, until his daughter was killed by one of the toys when it came alive. (he wasn’t thinking about how creepy that was. Not at all.) Sam steals a car and drives out.   
The hunter, whose name was Andy, had everything to fix the car in his rundown apartment. It took less than an hour, and when he was done, it looked brand new. Sam smiled, and strolled back out to the car.  
Sam drove back to the motel, parked the car where he had found it, and plopped down onto the bed. He got bored of waiting for Dean, and started running the car over the sheets, occasionally making car noises.  
When Dean walked back in, Sam was on his back making the car fly above his head and making airplane noises.  
“What the fuck?” Dean says as he throws his bag onto the bed. Sam sits up instantly, and smiles at Dean.  
“So I was looking for my pen in the impala, which I never did find, but that’s not the point, and I found this. Remember, its tat toy car that dad go you-“Sam starts to say.  
“Yea, Sam, I remember it. You used to beg me to play with it, and then spend the next fifteen minutes making me your road, and then you get bored, stick it in my mouth and run off,” Dean says, trying to sound angry but there’s a hint of a smile creeping up in the corners of his mouth.   
“Really? I don’t remember that,” Sam says.  
“Yea, you were really little. I always acted mad, but I liked it. You always wanted to be on your own, most of the time you didn’t want to play with me, but those moments are some of the happiest.” Dean smiles.  
Sam stands up and pulls on Dean’s arm until he’s in front of the bed, flips him and pushes him onto it. Dean’s feet are still in the floor, and he moves to get back up, but Sam starts running the car up and down his leg.  
“Vroom, vroom,” Sam says, making the car go onto deans stomach and around in circles. He spends a few minutes doing that, making car noise and running the car over Dean’s top half, until he takes notice of Dean’s cock, which is starting to push against the zipper. Sam smirks, and gets an idea.  
Sam pushes up Dean's shirt a bit, and puts the car down on it. He covers it with his hand, and starts pushing the shirt up with his hands, making the car go across Dean’s chest with them. When dean starts to take his own shirt off, Sam moves his hands back down towards deans jeans.  
Sam lets the car sit on Dean's stomach as he removes Dean's jeans and boxers. Sam runs his hands up deans now bare legs. He smirks down at deans full erect cock, picks up the car, and rubs it up and down his cock.   
Dean growls, and pulls the car out of Sam’s hand, puts in on the nightstand and pulls Sam down on top of him. Some moves to get the car, but dean flips over, pining Sam to the mattress with his weight, his hands wrapped around Sam's wrists.  
“You know I don’t like teasing, Sam,” Dean growls, as he starts to bite at Sam's neck. Sam moans and lets his head fall back, exposing his neck for Dean.   
“I’m sorry,” Sam says, and Dean fuses their lips together. Sam lets his mouth fall open, and dean doesn’t waste a second, sending his tongue plundering into deans mouth, their tongues and teeth clashing.   
“Mmm, Dean, want, want you to fuck my mouth,” Sam moans, breaking away from the kiss.  
Dean doesn’t respond, instead he just slides up until his cock is level with Sam’s mouth. Sam closes the distance, wrapping his lips around Dean's cock, hallowing his cheeks out. Dean starts out slow, a steady pace, slowly working his way deeper into Sam’s throat.  
When he’s fully into Sam’s mouth he holds it there, and Sam moans. Dean can feel it thrum across his dick, and moans in response.   
Dean quickens the pace, trying to set a rhythm, but failing, Sam’s taking it all, those plush lips stretched tight around his cock is a sinful sight, and Sam opens his eyes and looks back at him.  
“Oh, god, Sammy,” Dean says as he comes, and Sam swallows almost all of it, a dribble running down his chin. Dean licks it up before reclaiming Sam’s mouth with his own.   
As they kiss, slow and gentle, dean runs his hand down Sam’s body, and into his boxers. He wraps a fist around Sam’s cock. Four strokes and Sam’s coming over Dean's fist and into his boxers. Dean breaks the kiss, and rolls over onto his back.  
Sam stand up and goes to the bathroom to wash up, throwing dean a wet towel. Dean stares up to the ceiling. He grabs the car and stares at it, noticing the completely new look of it.  
“You always did like my toys better than your own.” Dean says, putting the car back down on the stand and wiping his hand.


End file.
